Samples of My Writing (German and English)

An old married couple visits after decades the new Beijing, sits in the back seats of a car driving along a wide avenue that is filled with malls, McDonald’s and new housing projects. Nothing of the factory grounds where they were employed in the eighties is to be seen. They drive past a huge Mao statue in the classic waving pose. The husband lifts his arm and waves back and smiles before he turns to his wife. Such is the irony in modern-day China.

So Long, My Son 地久天长 is above all a family melodrama that stretches across more than three hours and bridges them ‘only’ unspectacularly. And yet I was not disappointed at my first Berlinale Competition film in the theater after Zhang Yimou’s entry, another of the many Chinese competing films this year, was taken out (indeed the second one after Shao nian de ni 少年的你). Wang Xiaoshuai 王小帅 already received a Silver Bear for best director with Beijing Bicicyle 十七岁的的单车, his signature international breakout success.

The only son of Liyun and Yaojun drowns while playing with his daring friend who was born on the same day as him. The second son would-have-been was already forced to be aborted due to the one-child-policy just set in place (abandoned in 2015) – by the mother of this playmate. A lifelong struggle ensues evolving around the question what constitutes a family anymore and the question how personal remorse and political ideology go together. Turbocapitalism does not only know winners, and the grieving couple sets out to a southern province where they continue their modest life with an estranged adopted son. When he runs away from home we follow a back-and-forth of flashbacks and the ongoing present, only gradually resulting in a more complete picture and tying up loose ends. The old couple finally visits the graveyard of their son (much reminiscent of Zhang Yimou’s To Live), bringing the traditional paper money for burning and apples symbolizing peace. The graveyard lies on a hill a little outside of Beijing and the camera changes to their backs, the city in front of them in the background. Yaojun’s cellphone goes off, a simple classical melody with a quality like conjured up from a past decade. A few moments before, Liyun fought back tears, and now she brightly receives news: The friend who was there at the fatal swimming is now a father.

At times the plot is challenging to piece together; the time jumps and fragments, already beginning from the second scene, were nearly overcomplicated, not least because they so seamlessly merge into one another. It took quite some attention before I realized that the adopted son was not one of the both boys that are shown playing happily with each other back when Xingxing, the genetic son was still alive. For the adopted son is also called Xingxing as a replacement. This explains the intense beginning, when they look for him everywhere in this foreign appearing city by the sea. A respectful distance is kept, not more said than necessary, however the theme song “Auld Lang Syne” tipped into the sentimental. Still one is carried on as if in an in-between state, and the simple joys of the past are not blindly glossed over. Notwithstanding, the film ends on an appreciative note. It has managed to tell an epic tale of loss while leaving judgement on the big developments of the country open. Those having anything remaining to blame blame themselves.

“For me this is actually not even a film,” says director Wang Xiaoshuai as he steps onto the stage afterward. “It feels like our lives.”